The tunnels did not end after the creature fell. They only widened, stretched, and changed shape as if the world beneath the Demon Territories had decided to show them just how deep it went.
They moved forward in a loose line, Atlas at the front again, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp as he cleared the path. The smell of blood faded behind them, replaced by damp stone and old air that carried a weight to it, the kind that made every breath feel watched. The floor sloped upward gradually, the water thinning until it clung only to cracks and grooves in the stone like it refused to let go.
The first stretch of tunnel opened into a cavern carved with jagged columns of obsidian-like rock, their edges sharp enough to cut skin if brushed against. Thin streams of glowing red mineral ran through the walls, pulsing faintly like veins beneath skin. The light cast warped shadows that moved when no one did.
"This place can't decide what it wants to be," Lorian muttered as he hopped over a steaming crack in the floor. "Pick a theme already. But it has charm. Very welcoming. Really screams please don't die here."
"You scream a lot," Ako said from Garruk's shoulders, her tail flicking lazily as she looked around. "Maybe the tunnels just don't like you."
"They have good taste," Seris added with a giggle without looking back.
Lorian pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. "Cruel. All of you. I nearly died back there."
"You did not," Seris replied. "You got covered in bloody guts and embarrassed yourself."
Atlas did not turn around. "You also screamed."
"That was tactical," Lorian said quickly. "Fear is a weapon."
They passed into the next section where the ceiling dropped lower and the walls smoothed into carved stone, old and deliberate, marked with demonic runes etched deep and worn by time. Some of them glowed faintly, reacting to movement, others cracked and dead. The air here was warmer, dry, and faintly metallic.
Ako leaned forward, squinting. "These aren't natural."
"No," Seris agreed. "This was built. Long time ago."
"Demons love digging holes," Lorian said. "Symbolic or something."
Garruk made a low sound in his throat that might have been a laugh, though no one could be sure.
They moved again, the terrain shifting once more into a wide stretch of uneven stone plates that rose and fell slightly beneath their feet like frozen waves. Steam vented from narrow fissures, fogging the air briefly before dissipating. The heat here was oppressive, clinging to skin and armor alike.
Ako hopped down from Garruk's shoulders and stretched, rolling her neck. "I hate this place."
"You hate most places," Seris said.
"Yeah," Ako replied, baring her teeth in a grin. "But this one deserves it."
Atlas slowed as the tunnel ahead narrowed sharply before opening again, his hand lifting slightly to signal them to keep quiet. Beyond the narrow passage, the stone ended abruptly.
They emerged into a massive hollow space, the tunnel floor stopping at a sheer stone wall that rose straight up into darkness. A vertical shaft cut clean through the rock, wide enough to swallow a house, its walls smooth and scorched as if shaped by force rather than tools. Far above them, faint red light pulsed, and with it came sound.
Voices.
Low, layered murmurs echoed down the shaft, overlapping and indistinct, carrying weight and authority.
Seris frowned as she stepped closer to the edge. "That goes up."
"No kidding," Lorian said, peering over. "And I'm guessing we don't want to knock politely."
Ako craned her neck. "How far?"
Atlas flicked a small stone upward and watched as it vanished into the dark. They waited. Nothing came back.
"Far enough," he said.
Seris crossed her arms. "We don't have climbing gear."
"I can climb," Ako offered immediately.
"You would fall," Seris replied just as quickly.
"I would not."
"You absolutely would."
Lorian sighed and spread his hands. "If only we had a genius strategist among us who planned ahead."
Atlas shot him a look. "If only."
Their argument stalled when Garruk stepped forward without a word. He approached the wall of the shaft slowly, placing one massive hand against the stone, then the other. His brow furrowed slightly as he pressed his palms flat, closing his eyes.
The stone responded.
A deep rumble vibrated through the cavern as cracks spiderwebbed outward from Garruk's hands, glowing faintly with golden resonance. The floor beneath their feet shuddered, then lifted.
"What the hell—" Lorian yelped as the stone beneath them rose in one smooth slab, carrying all five upward at an alarming speed.
Ako whooped, grabbing Seris by the arm as the walls of the shaft blurred past them, red light growing brighter by the second. The murmurs above sharpened into voices, shouts, movement.
They shot out of the shaft and slammed onto polished stone flooring, skidding across the surface before coming to a halt in a vast open hall.
Red moonlight poured in through towering arched windows, casting long shadows across black marble floors veined with deep crimson. Massive pillars lined the hall, carved with demonic reliefs depicting conquest, sacrifice, and crowned figures wreathed in flame. The air smelled of incense and iron.
They were not alone.
Dozens of tall figures lined the hall, demons clad in dark ceremonial armor, their pale skin stark against the black stone. Their eyes were unsettling, black sclera framing stark white irises that locked onto the intruders instantly. Long, curved horns swept back from their skulls, some etched with gold, others scarred and broken.
At the far end of the hall sat a raised throne carved from obsidian and bone.
The chieftain stood before it.
He towered over the others, his frame broad and imposing, his pale skin marked with crimson ritual scars that glowed faintly under the red moonlight. His horns curved forward like blades, thicker and longer than the rest, and his eyes burned with cold intelligence. A heavy cloak of dark fur draped his shoulders, clasped at the neck with a sigil etched in Drakos' mark. Clearly Drakos had already been giving gifts.
In his hand was a sealed letter—the alliance letter from Drakos.
The room went silent.
Atlas' hand drifted toward his dagger.
Seris slowly raised her bow, tension coiling through her shoulders.
Ako crouched instinctively, muscles tightening.
Garruk simply stood.
Lorian opened his mouth.
"Okay," he said loudly, waving one hand. "Before anyone panics, I just want to say this is probably not what it looks like. Also...love what you guys did with the place. Very lively."
Every demon in the hall turned fully toward them.
The chieftain's lips curled into a slow, dangerous smile as he folded the letter carefully and tucked it away.
"Well," he said, his voice deep and carrying effortlessly across the hall, "it seems we have guests."
His gaze swept over the Deathforged, lingering on each one before settling on Atlas.
"Seize the intruders."
And the hall erupted into motion.